A woman with dark hair sat in a large padded chair a book on her lap and a look of concentration on her face. Besides her was a fire place, roaring with a large fire despite the summer heat. Abigail Morgan was a wealthy woman, or she was at one time. Her fathers fortune was now imbedded through out the American system now and all she had was granted to her through her Grandfather, the man whose mansion she currently resided in.
“There you are Rosita.” Abigail startled at the words, dropping the book to the floor in her panic. She looked up her dark green eyes full of obvious fright as they landed on the form of an auburn haired woman.
“Mirage.” She hissed, scrambling from her seat. She took two steps back so that the chair was between the two.
“Now, now, there is no need to be so jumpy, I only wished to talk little Rosita.”
“Don’t call me that, you have no right.” Abigail snapped, making the other woman laugh tonelessly.
“Oh, but dear one, I have all the right in the world. Mother Assured me of that when she charged me with bring you over to us.” The woman said smoothly, in a way that sent shivers down the darker haired woman’s spine. Abigail glared, an angry flush darkening her pale cheeks.
“You well know that I’ll die before I’ll help that deceitful b***h.” She responded darkly. Mirage gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and took three slow steps forward bringin her only an arms length away from Abigail.
“Ah, but darling…” she raised a hand and brushed it along Abigails jaw. “Mother Hecate only wants to help, you have so much potential…” Abigail smacked the hand away from her face.
“It is her fault that my real mother and Gen are dead, and now she’s taken you away as well.” Abigail all but snarled. “I want nothing to do with her!”
“It seems she won’t be swayed at the moment.” Mirage addressed a shadowed corner behind Abigail. The Black haired woman turned and saw a silhouette of a man in the dark.
“Hmm. Let me alone with her.” A new, much deeper voice ordered. Mirage gave the figure a sharp bow and slipped out of the room the door closing with a click behind her.
“We are alone now…” the voice started again, a man stepped out, long blond hair behind him. Abigail didn’t waist any time however and gathered her strength before throwing it at the man.
He went ridged for a second before a tender smile over came his face. “What can I help you with lovely one?” Lucius Malfoy asked, his voice sickly sweet. Abigail gave the man a smile of her own. “Help me get out of here, Get me to London.” She said softly the man nodded.
“But of course, anything you want.” He agreed he took her by the arm and with a sharp CRACK the room was inhabited by only a snake hissing its anger in a corner.
Harry Potter woke hundreds of miles away in a small dank room with a broken dresser and a small bed. He attempted to catch his breath, his hand over his heart as he tried to slow it down.
“That was different.” Her murmured to himself as he slid out from his blankets and onto the cold floor. He was getting used to such dreams, he had to since he had been having them three times a week since he had arrived at the Dursleys, he only hoped that he could speak to Professor Dumbledore about them soon.
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